The Shirt
by redisaid
Summary: A short take on the origin of the infamous shirt from "What Was Missing".


She'd expected a dank, possibly smelly cave strewn with bones and not that much in the way of furniture or the other comforts of a typical home. The charming little house within was exactly the opposite of what she'd expected. Bubblegum stood in mute awe before it, staring up at the purple siding and pink curtains, wondering if the vampire had somehow managed to rip the house off of its foundations in the candy kingdom and drop it in the cave. It certainly would have fit in better there.

"You coming in or not, Bonni?"

All of her decorum, all of the staunch manners that she'd practiced for so long were forgotten for a moment. Bubblegum startled at the question and nearly tripped over her own feet as she tried to take a step toward the door. "Uh, yeah...sorry," she choked out as she recovered her balance and what was left of her dignity.

Marceline just laughed in response as she floated into her house. "Not what you were expecting?" she asked over her shoulder.

"No," Bubblegum answered, finding the word lingering a bit too long on her lips as she did. The interior of the house was even more mystifying. There were no bloody skulls or chains or instruments of torture. The immaculately clean cottage was instead full of kitschy furnishings and decor, such that many of the trendiest inhabitants of Ooo would kill to own. An old, tiny poodle slept in a basket beside a few bass guitars. This wasn't the den of some monstrous creature. This was a home.

Marceline glided effortlessly into the kitchen. "You candy people just eat sweet stuff, right?"

Bubblegum couldn't help herself. She went over to one of the strange paintings by the end table to wonder at the mother and child pictured there, surrounded by beams of golden light. "That's actually a common misconception," she told the vampire as she pondered the painting. "We can eat just about anything. Foods high in glucose are merely a general preference amongst my people."

Marceline stuck her head through the window between the two rooms and puzzled over that for a moment. "So, if I made some strawberry shakes you'd be down?"

"That sounds great," Bubblegum assented. The blender began to whirl before the last syllable even left her tongue.

She'd seen it as a diplomatic opportunity. Her fellow princesses had their reservations, as did Bubblegum, but she'd accepted the queen's invitation in hopes of forming an alliance between their kingdoms. She'd never actually seen another vampire, or even heard of one, but there had to be something to Marceline's domain, something worth a night of diplomacy. As it was, it seemed that the Vampire Kingdom was just this big empty cave and the wonderful little house within.

Of course, she'd tried to convince the others to come along. Lumpy Space Princesss had promised to show up, but Bubblegum knew she'd find some excuse to get out of it. Hotdog Princess and Slime Princess were scared to death of Marceline and had refused to join her outright.

It was a matter of maybe a minute or two before a cold cup was placed into her hands. Marceline floated above her sipping from her own shake. "That was pretty lame of LSP to bail on us. Did you like the show?"

Bubblegum had never been to a rock concert before. She'd performed in her share of whistling choir recitals and kept a candy cane minstrel at her court, but that music was not even comparable, nor was the atmosphere of the performances. The show in question took place at a dingy club in a far off corner of Ooo. All manner of creatures were crammed into all too little space. It smelled like smoke and stale beer, but no one really seemed to care. Bubblegum had been beyond nervous. Marceline's confidence and insistence that the band was good were the only things that kept her from running out the nearest door and screaming her way into the night.

And they were good. They were so good. It was like no other music she'd heard before. Guitars screamed. She swayed along to the steady, throbbing bass. Drums crashed and symbols rang with controlled violence. She could barely hear the singer, since the crowd sung along with every word. Bubblegum found herself singing by the end of the show. She wasn't sure how, or even when she started. She didn't really know the words either, but that didn't stop her.

"I loved it!" she answered all too enthusiastically and nearly spilled her shake onto Marceline's carpet in the process. "I've never heard anything like that before."

Marceline cackled in her usual condescending way. There was a time when that sound would have brought a swell of rage bubbling up within the pink princess, but she understood it now. The vampire wasn't so bad. She genuinely wanted to share the things she enjoyed with her fellow monarchs. That's why she'd invited the princesses to a girl's night out, not to trick them or hand them off to ice king's waiting claws. "I didn't think you would, honestly. I never would've guessed you were so hardcore, Bonni."

"I never would have guessed you lived in a little pink and purple cottage, Marceline," the princess retorted.

Marceline took a long sip from her shake, or at least the red pigments within it. She swung around Bubblegum, listlessly floating over to the small collection of bass guitars on the other side of the room. "Guess we were both wrong, huh?"

Bubblegum laughed at that and shirked off the last bit of nervous tension she'd been carrying with her that night.

The vampire queen set her shake aside on top of a stray amplifier. She plucked her favorite bass from its stand and began to pluck at it's strings. "So you really like music, huh?"

Bubblegum wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. There was a couch she could sit on, but it didn't look all that comfortable. There were other chairs, but her feet shuffled across the floor and closer to the vampire. She found herself standing just a few feet away, watching with interest as the other woman's long pale fingers picked out a deep melody on the strings over the body of what was once a formidable battleaxe. "I do," the princess confessed after a moment. "Though I'm not terribly good at producing it."

"It just takes practice," Marceline told her. "I've had a lot of time for that. I could teach you sometime, maybe—if you'd wanna learn bass or something."

Bubblegum's eyes were glued to her nimble fingers. If they had looked up just then, they might have seen the faint hints of a maroon blush cross the vampire's pale cheeks.

"Perhaps. My schedule is a little too full for music lessons right now, but I would consider it should things change in the future. The arts have never been my strong suit, but they fascinate me," the princess told her before she peeled her gaze away from Marceline's fingers and into the carpet.

The queen tried to gather herself. She did so in the way she knew best, by getting lost in her music. Her somewhat random plucking turned into a song. She hummed along to it, her voice nearly as deep and soothing as the bass she played.

"I don't know why everyone seems to think you're a monster," Bubblegum said quietly over her humming. "You're pretty cool, Marceline."

The vampire smiled and stopped playing. "I sorta gave myself a bit of a bad reputation. That was a long time ago, though. I'm over that stuff now."

Bubblegum realized it was better not to ask for more details on the subject. Marceline went back to her simple song, and the candy princess was content just to listen and sip her shake. She clapped excitedly against the cool plastic of her cup when it was over, eliciting another fanged smile from the performer.

"Do you give concerts? I think I'd like to go to one," Bubblegum stammered out as she stopped clapping.

Marceline looked a bit surprised at that question. "Uh, sometimes. The Duke of Nuts and his kids are big fans, so I play for them at parties and junk. It's been at least a century since I did a show like the one we went to tonight. Maybe two centuries. I dunno. I sorta lose track of time."

"Well you should!" the pink monarch said, her free hand flying dramatically to her hip. "I insist upon it! I'll have Peppermint Butler arrange for you to play at a venue within my kingdom. My citizens could certainly use a bit more culture."

Marceline cackled again. "Whoa there, princess. Maybe I don't wanna play for a bunch of gumdrops and lollipops? I don't think they'd dig my tunes."

"They'll, uh, dig them. I'm certain," Bubblegum told her, her tone suddenly dire and serious.

Marceline strummed her bass again, just once. "I'll think about it. I really had no idea you were such a fan of hard stuff. You didn't even buy a t-shirt or a CD at the concert."

"They were selling t-shirts? Aw glob! I didn't see that. I totally would've bought one!" Bubblegum cried.

Marceline quirked an eyebrow. Her lips pulled back as if to laugh again, but they stopped about halfway, then curled back over her fangs. "Hang out here a sec," she commanded, and then flew up through the hole in the ceiling.

Bubblegum was left only to stare after her and the long ebony trail of her hair.

She wasn't gone for long. Marceline returned from the second story grinning triumphantly. A bit of black fabric hung from her hand. "Here," she said as she thrust it at Bubblegum. "You can have this. It's from last year's tour, but I think you'll appreciate it more than I do."

The shirt was only slightly worn. The graphic on it—a rather gruesome depiction of two impaled marshmallows and a snake slithering between them—was very much intact. Bubblegum knew she could never be seen wearing such a thing in the Candy Kingdom, but she snatched it up all the same, beaming. "Are you sure?" she asked.

Marceline's grin hadn't quite disappeared yet. "Totally," she answered with a nod.

Bubblegum can't help herself yet again. She hugged the shirt close to her chest. "Thank you. For the show and the shirt and—well, everything. I had a lot of fun tonight."

"Me too," Marceline said. She stopped floating, and her boots landed gracefully on the floor, as if she was made of nothing but air. "They're playing again next week, you know. I could get us tickets—if you wanted to go, that is. Maybe just you and me could go. LSP would probably bail again anyway, if you invited her."

Bubblegum covered her grin with the t-shirt. It smelled like Marceline's house—like old books and fresh berries with a hint of rust. It was a strange combination, stranger still since Bubblegum found that she really liked it. "That sounds perfect."


End file.
